When I woke up at 3am this morning, it was not with the the usual visions that startle me awake lately. No real demons and impending doom stuck to the front of my brain, no sense of dread that waking life is not actually a nightmare. This time I was still pondering the question that I was asking in the dream. “Should I be buried with some mallets so the other skeletons don’t need to use my femurs when they use my ribcage as a xylophone?”
Would they use my femurs or my humeruses? I supposed it would depend on how short they were or how close they wanted to stand to my skeleton.
They’d just be doing what the music told them to do, I am sure.
